<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Distress Calls by kaeorin</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483226">Distress Calls</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin'>kaeorin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Loki's Lullabies [67]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Anxiety, Avenger Loki (Marvel), Avenger Reader (Marvel), Eating Disorders, F/M, Fainting, Fear, Food, Protective Loki (Marvel), Reader-Insert</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:40:37</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,123</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24483226</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Stuck in a whirling nightmare, it was all too easy to just...forget to eat. When the consequences hit you, Loki is there.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Loki (Marvel)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Loki's Lullabies [67]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>235</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Distress Calls</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t something that you did on purpose, but it <i>was</i> something you’d done all your life. When you were stressed, or busy, or trying to distract yourself from something else going on in your life, food just kind of...fell by the wayside. It didn’t help that, when you were upset or anxious, your stomach would churn and roil and there was very little that you could eat that wouldn’t immediately make you sick. But most of the time, when you didn’t eat, it was just because...you forgot.</p><p>That held true in the Tower. Granted, you were hardly the only member of the team who wasn’t great at taking care of yourself. Some of them spent way too much time in the gym, ignoring their bodies’ signs of giving in so they could push themselves or punish themselves. Some of them stayed up too late or didn’t sleep at all in hopes of avoiding the nightmares. Tony was maybe the worst of all of you, locking himself in his lab for long stretches of time, eating or resting only when Pepper arrived to force him to stop or he just...dropped. </p><p>It usually wasn’t that big of a problem for you. If you got distracted, or if your nerves kept you from eating, it usually didn’t last longer than a day, tops. If you were working on something, you’d come up for air eventually and go find something to snack on. If your body was freaking out on you, it couldn’t last forever. Eventually your churning stomach would calm down, and you’d find something to eat. </p><p>But the world was a nightmare. Between the news stories that seemed to be constantly streaming on one screen or another in the Tower and the updates you were getting from the higher-ups about the possibilities of missions and the like, it was hard to calm down. The first couple of days, you couldn’t have forced yourself to eat—or to keep anything down—if you’d wanted to, and then after that, you didn’t see much of a point in trying. Instead, you threw yourself into your work, completing months of back-logged paperwork. Getting that stuff done was one way, however small and pointless, that you could try to take charge of things. It let you feel like you were in control of something <i>and</i> it meant that the bosses might get off your case about your missing paperwork. Win-win.</p><p>The Tower was quiet. It was late at night, but you couldn’t be sure about anything more specific than that. You’d brought all your stuff out into one of the common areas with you ages ago because you were tired of being cooped up in your room. For a while, the noises of life going on around you were your comfortable companions, but that had more or less faded away as the others retreated into their own spaces for the night. And still you toiled.</p><p>You hated that Loki was still so good at lurking so quietly. Wanda had clearly picked up on some ways to tell when he was there, but she hadn’t been able to teach you any of them yet. So the only thing that clued you in to his presence was his quiet cough from the doorway. It made you flinch like a bomb had been dropped. When you met his eyes, he almost looked apologetic—and amused.</p><p>“It’s late,” he said quietly. “Aren’t you tired?”</p><p>No, not really. You were smart enough to know to cut back on your workouts when you weren’t eating, and missions had been greatly reduced to keep from exposing the members of the team to the virus outside, so you weren’t really doing anything to drain your energy away. Your back and neck were sore, but that was about it. You shook your head at him. “I slept in late this morning.” Also not entirely a lie.</p><p>He didn’t reply, only moved silently through the room to take a seat in one of the easy-chairs. You got the sense that he was looking at you, but you didn’t lift your head to double-check. Let him look.</p><p>Things were quiet. It wasn’t the kind of silence that pressed in on you in a way that told you Loki had something else to say. You liked this kind of silence. You often settled into this kind of silence with him. It wasn’t easy to find people like that. </p><p>Eventually, you finished what you were working on and looked over at him again. It was a little startling to note that he was still looking at you. Had he been watching you this whole time? You felt your cheeks grow warm, but you didn’t look away from him. He smiled, something quiet and private, and nodded at your stack of finished paperwork. “You’re dedicated.”</p><p>You couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of you. “Not really. If I was dedicated, all of this stuff would have gotten done months ago. But it’s a good distraction from...” You trailed off, and then did your best to finish your sentence with a vague gesture indicating the world around you. “You know. Everything.”</p><p>He nodded like he understood. Maybe he did. Something about the look on his face made you realize with a start that this was the first interaction you’d had with any other living being in...a while. How could that be possible? Rather than dwell on that for very long, you lifted your chin towards him. Now that you had it—interaction, that is—you were loath to give it up.</p><p>“How are you? With...all of this. Are you okay?” It was kind of a lame question, and it reeked of bland attempts at small talk, but you meant it. The Tower wasn’t always the best place for him, you knew, and here he was, stuck inside it. He and Thor were some of the only team members who were allowed to take missions right now, but even then, his interactions with the outside world were limited.</p><p>His face was unreadable, but his eyes sparkled as he nodded. That was something, at least. “I’m fine. No new complaints, anyway. And you? Are you well?”</p><p>He asked like he knew the answer already. That made you uncomfortable. You started stacking up the materials around you, even though you didn’t really want to leave. “I’m fine too. Still adjusting, I guess, but...fine.” You gathered your files, pressed them to your chest, and that’s when you made the mistake. A little too eager to look more fine than maybe you truly were, you stood up too quickly. If you’d been eating, it probably wouldn’t have been a big deal, but...you weren’t. The world dimmed out around you, and you were a little too slow to realize that it wasn’t the world: it was your vision. You tried to keep a grip on your papers, but your body wasn’t responding correctly. You lurched forward, stumbling a bit, and had to drop them so you could catch yourself against the coffee table. A dull ache started up somewhere behind your eyes. That would going to be a pain in the ass to clean up.</p><p>Loki said your name, but he sounded so far away. If you responded at all, it had to be nonsensical. Then his arms were around you, circling your waist and pulling you into a standing position far too close to his body. He asked you something, but you couldn’t make any sense of it. You reached up to brace yourself against his chest. When would everything stop spinning?</p><p>At some point, you must have closed your eyes. Maybe you pressed your own forehead against him, or maybe he did it himself with his hand on the back of your neck. The darkness was peaceful. It smelled like <i>him</i>. You liked it. It gave you something to focus on so you could fight the fogginess in your head.</p><p>“You haven’t been eating.” His voice was clear again, which was nice even though he sounded grim and disapproving. It wasn’t a question, but you nodded a little anyway. He kept his hand on the back of your neck, and you found that you didn’t mind. Was that his heartbeat you heard, or your own? It was quick but steady. Strong. It had to be his, then, didn’t it? </p><p>You swallowed thickly and tried to figure out how to string words together to defend yourself. Not much came out of your mouth—even to your own ears, you sounded crazy. He kept a firm grip on you and led you into the kitchen. You wanted to protest. You wanted to stay back and start cleaning up after yourself, trying to get those papers back in order, but he didn’t let you go.</p><p>In the kitchen, he deposited you into a chair and stood beside you to keep you from standing up again. You tilted your head back to look up at him. God, he was tall. He narrowed his eyes at you in a way that gave you the uncomfortable feeling that he’d asked you a question. When he read your face, he pressed his lips together in a thin line.</p><p>“Peanut butter it is, then. And...jam? Right? It’s peanut butter and jam? Stay there. Don’t move.” </p><p>His tone left no room for argument even if you were in any kind of position to argue. He kept speaking, mostly just muttering to himself as he moved easily through the kitchen. You watched him work. It was strange, knowing that he was doing this for <i>you</i>, serving <i>you</i>. When had he gone from someone who would walk right over a body on the ground to someone who caught you when you fell and held you up against his body? Before long, he placed a sandwich on the table in front of you and gestured at it. You still didn’t argue. You didn’t really feel sick anymore, so you didn’t really have any solid reason <i>not</i> to eat. So you took a bite. His sharp gaze never wavered, never moved from your face. It was a little uncomfortable, knowing that he was watching you eat, but you knew better than to argue.</p><p>After a few moments, he stepped away again, but only to go to the refrigerator. He poured a glass of juice and placed that in front of you as well. You smiled to yourself at the sheer absurdity of it all, but didn’t try to explain it to him. Eventually he sat down with you, wrapping his long fingers around a glass of his own.</p><p>“Mortals.” Though his face twisted with something like disdain, his voice was warm. Almost affectionate, even. “You <i>have</i> to eat, you know.”</p><p>“I know.” Things were straightening out again. You were nearly finished with the sandwich, and it was a little embarrassing how much better you were already feeling. Still, something kept you from apologizing, even if you did want to explain yourself. “Sometimes...I <i>can’t</i>, though. I get sick. Like, queasy. The world...” You took a sip of juice, and the cool sweetness was nice. Refreshing. “And then I kind of just... forget.” It wasn’t much of an explanation, but it was all you could really offer.</p><p>Loki laughed humourlessly and ducked his head. You were still just dizzy enough that you couldn’t keep yourself from reaching out to touch the hair that fell in front of his face. He didn’t flinch, and he didn’t pull away. That was nice. He let you keep touching him, combing gently through his hair. You tucked some of it behind his ear, finally, and studied his face.</p><p>“You’re...<i>beautiful</i>,” you said at last. Maybe you were trying to explain yourself. He smiled wryly and reached for your plate, making as if to stand and make you another sandwich. You grabbed his hand before he could do any of that. He let you touch him. Your cheeks were definitely burning, but you just fixed your gaze on the way he’d turned his hand over to curl his fingers around yours. “Thank you.” </p><p>“Sure.” It was an acceptance, rather than a dismissal. He was listening to you? Accepting that? You felt yourself smile a little wider but didn’t try to speak. His skin was cool, and maybe a little rougher than you would have expected, but even that made sense. He worked <i>hard</i> here. Harder than probably anyone else. You should have known. When you looked up at his face, he was already watching you. He smiled a little wider when you met his gaze, and the warmth that flooded through you wasn’t really embarrassment, was it?</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>